


Glow

by hollybennett123



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: 2015 1D Kink Meme Fill, Blow Jobs, Hand Jobs, M/M, Warm cosy fluffiness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-02
Updated: 2015-02-02
Packaged: 2018-03-10 05:31:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3278552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hollybennett123/pseuds/hollybennett123
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's cold outside. Louis and Niall warm up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Glow

**Author's Note:**

> Yet another fill for a prompt at the [2015 1D Kink Meme](http://1dkink2015.livejournal.com/1450.html?thread=32682) , this one requesting "I need a Nouis fic where they are all cozy and sleepy in sweatpants and hoodies and cuddling and shit but then get each other off all hot. But it needs to feel cozy."
> 
> So hopefully that's what I've achieved (except, you know, 'cosy', cos I'm English and stuff). This was soooooo relaxing and soothing to write :3 Oh, and shoutout to the UK weather this week which has been endlessly windy, icy, wet and snowy. ~Inspiring~

It had started as rain but it’s turned to snow, now; fat, wet flakes coming down in a flurry and soaking everything they make contact with as the wind whips wild around them and sends the snow spiralling under the pools of light cast by the streetlamps.

“Whose idea was this again?” Niall asks Louis, voice muffled by the wool of his scarf which he’s pulled up over his mouth in an attempt to keep his face from freezing. Given that the entire rest of him is utterly drenched, the scarf seems slightly futile now.

“Yours,” Louis says, jostling Niall with his shoulder as they walk briskly side by side. The movement has water running over Louis’ face in rivulets, dripping down from his hair. He attempts to wipe the wet from his face with his hand, which is also wet. Fucking fuck.

“Yeah, _mine_ , but only ‘cause you get so bloody hyperactive after being cooped up indoors all day that I need to take you out for late night walks like a fecking dog, dickhead,” Niall says, rolling his eyes.

It’s true; when Louis had agreed to look after his mum’s house for a few days he hadn’t expected it to be so bloody _boring_. There’s only so many times in a day you can shag before seeking alternative sources of entertainment. Louis grins and pulls a face at him before rubbing his hands through Niall’s saturated hair, sending a shower of droplets everywhere. Niall scrunches his nose and ducks away, laughing, his hair in messy blond spikes.

“C’mon, nearly there,” Louis says, grabbing Niall’s wrist with numb fingers and dragging him along with hurried steps. The snow’s starting to settle on the pavement, crunching under their soaked trainers. They stumble up the step to the front door to the house, huddled together under the porch overhang as Louis attempts to get the key in the door with stiff, shaking fingers.

When it eventually swings open they tumble inside, soles of their trainers squeaking across the hardwood floor and leaving wet muddy puddles in their wake, and it’s like a wall of blissful heat washing over them once they’re inside and Louis’ shoved the door closed behind them with a satisfying thud.

“Ugh,” Louis grimaces, holding his arms out and looking down at himself. It’s only once they’re in the dry that it hits him just quite how cold and drenched he truly is, right down to his bones. Why the fuck did they go out in jeans, of all things? “I’m so fucking wet.”

“That’s what she said,” Niall says, accompanied by an eyebrow waggle as he unwraps his scarf and throws it over a coat hook. Louis kicks his trainers off there and then just so he can throw a soggy sock at him. It hits him on the shoulder with a wet smack and falls to the floor pathetically.

“Not cool, Tommo,” Niall grins, shaking his head and toeing his trainers off. “Fuck, m’never gonna feel my toes ever again, I reckon.”

“I know what you mean, mate,” Louis tells him, wiggling his numb toes against the floor and wincing as proper circulation starts to return. “Come on, let’s go get our trackies on and get warmed up.”

They traipse upstairs in companionable silence and into Louis’ room. No matter how often he’s away, no matter how many thousands of miles from here he is, _Louis’ room_ remains. It feels like the centre point of his universe; like comfort, and home. His stuff is all over the place, books and clothes and CDs and everything else, a kaleidoscope of organised chaos.

Louis peels off his wet clothes, boxers and all, and dumps them on the carpet for now, grabbing a pair of soft sweatpants out of a drawer and pulling them on.

“Going commando, Lou?” Niall asks from somewhere behind him. “Good lad.”

Louis gives him a scandalised look over his shoulder. “You watching me change, Nialler? Fucking rude, that is, mate. Nice arse, by the way.”

Niall winks and grins at him, chucking on a pair of trackie bottoms from his suitcase that are at least two inches too long in the leg for him; Louis’ ninety-nine percent certain that Niall stole them from someone else in the band at some point, but he can’t remember who. Louis would call him a clothing thief, but as he’s now donning a pair of Zayn’s comfiest socks he’s in no position to name-call.

Louis reaches over to the radiator and grabs his Adidas hoodie, left there to dry after being washed a few days before, and it’s so hot and perfect against his fingers that he can’t help but smile as he pulls it on. It’s all soft, brushed fleece lining on the inside and it smells like the washing powder his mum uses. When he looks over at Niall, he’s wearing an old, soft-worn wool jumper, gone threadbare after years of wear. It’s loose-fitting and the neck’s stretched out from being pulled off over arms and elbows one too many times, drooping down and showing the hollows of Niall’s pale collarbones. Louis kind of wants to bite at them, maybe lick them a little bit. He bites the inside of his lip and resists; kisses his mouth instead, deep and hot.

“Mm,” Louis says quietly, as Niall blinks slowly at him and smiles. “That were nice, love.” Niall always practically fucking _melts_ when Louis calls him ‘love’. It’s cute.

Niall follows Louis out of the bedroom and then disappears as Louis heads downstairs, reappearing with a towel which he’s using to scrub his hair dry just as Louis’ flicking the switch on the kettle and dropping a bag of Yorkshire tea into an empty mug.

“Fancy a brew?” Louis asks him, getting another mug down from the cupboard.

“Wouldn’t say no to summa that hot chocolate stuff, if you’re offering,” Niall says. “I put the wet clothes in the tumble dryer, by the way like, since you’re a lazy fuck ‘n all.”

“I’m making _drinks_ ,” Louis says, affronted, as he spoons hot chocolate powder into the mug and gestures at the kitchen in general. “Fuck off, Horan.”

Niall kisses Louis’ cheek wetly and gives his arse a cheeky pat before heading through into the living room, Louis following him out with the drinks a couple of minutes later.

There’s only the one light on – a small lamp in the corner – and it casts a soft radiance around the room, creating their own little muted, peaceful cocoon to protect them from the cold and the dark outside. The TV’s on, too, flickering different colours and quietly playing songs on one of the music channels over the sound of rain outside drumming against the windows once again.

Niall’s on the sofa with his back to the arm rest, barefoot and looking soft and cosy. There’s a fluffy grey blanket thrown over the sofa just to make it extra plush and warm. Louis hands him his hot chocolate, which he accepts with a grateful smile, and Louis takes a seat beside him; wrapping both hands around his tea, he sighs and lets the heat seep into his palms.

Niall sets his drink aside to cool on the coffee table and grabs a towel from where he’s draped it over the arm of the sofa. “Hey, I fetched this for you; c’mere and I’ll dry your hair.”

Louis puts his drink down beside Niall’s and moves so he can half-sit, half-lie on the sofa with his head resting against Niall’s chest, body cradled between his knees. Niall starts to dry his hair carefully, rubbing soothing circles with the warm towel.

“God, feels amazing,” Louis tells him with a groan. “Ta, mate.”

“S’fine, I’m just messing your hair up so you look a right proper twat,” Niall laughs.

Louis smiles and says nothing, because he doesn’t really care as long as Niall keeps working the towel through his hair with gentle hands. Closing his eyes, he sighs contentedly and listens to the gentle rhythm of music in the background. Reaching for his tea and handing Niall his hot chocolate, Louis sips from his mug every so often and lets it warm him from the inside out like liquid comfort.

Niall eventually stops, putting the towel on the floor and attempting to smooth Louis’s tousled hair into something resembling normalcy. When he satisfies himself that Louis’ hair is vaguely tidy – or just gives up and realises he’s fighting a losing battle, Louis isn’t sure – he wraps an arm loosely around Louis’ middle and lets the fingers of the other creep down so his fingertips can dip under the waistband of Louis’ joggers and stroke gently back and forth over the indent of his hipbone. Louis tilts his head back to look at him and quirks an eyebrow at him. Niall shrugs, rucking up Louis’ hoodie to expose an inch or so of bare skin, and keeps up that rub-rub-rub against Louis’ hipbone with gentle fingers. “Just warming my fingers up, like.”

“Yeah, course you are,” Louis smirks. Niall’s hands are hot and teasing and Louis’ cock is taking a definite interest, half-hard in his sweatpants already. Niall’s fingers slip a little bit lower and Louis shifts his hips up to meet them. “Ugh, don’t start anything you’re not going to finish, Ni. You’re getting me all worked up here.”

“Who says I’m not going to finish this?” Niall grins, hand moving to cup Louis under the loose fabric and then wrapping his fingers around Louis’ cock to give him a firm, tantalisingly slow stroke from base to tip. Louis groans softly, closing his eyes and tipping his head back against Niall’s shoulder.

Niall’s hand moves away for a moment but then returns, stroking him again and rubbing a spit-slick thumb over the head, Louis’ breath hitching in response.

“Yeah, Lou,” Niall breathes, a hot little huff of air against Louis’ ear that makes him shiver. Louis gives a contented little hum and moves his head to let Niall scrape his teeth over the flushed skin on his neck, sucking a mark there to get Louis’ cock fully hard and throbbing in his hand. His blood’s thrumming hot in his veins, the steady build towards orgasm picking up his pulse; it lacks any real urgency, though, too relaxed to want to rush things.

Niall’s so good at this, his clever warm hands knowing exactly how to bring Louis up to the brink and then pause, slowing down and easing off to drag it out that little bit longer. He’ll spend a while in a steady rhythm, simple and so, so good, but then he’ll throw in something else unexpectedly – a finger flicking over the slit, or the hollow of his cupped palm twisting over the wet-slick head – and Louis’ body feels like he’s on fire with it, right down to his toes. The loose fabric of his joggers feels so good sliding against his cock, and there’s something really hot about doing it like this; getting off without even bothering to get undressed with Niall hard and pressed up against him.

“You about t’come for me, Lou?” Niall says softly against his ear, nipping at it gently. He strokes Louis a little bit faster, grip turning firm and determined, and uses his other hand to pull the bottom of Louis’ hoodie up to expose his abs, keeping it bunched up around his fingers like he needs something to anchor himself to while he watches Louis come undone. “Gonna come all over yourself for me?”

“Yeah,” Louis breathes, toes curling against the sofa. “Fuck, I’m nearly there, just –” and then he’s coming with a soft gasp, perfect like a slow, rolling wave of pleasure as he comes over his stomach and Niall’s hand. Niall keeps his strokes careful and even, slowing to a stop after one final squeeze that has Louis trembling from the overstimulation.

Niall reaches for the towel he dropped on the floor earlier and uses it to wipe Louis’ stomach clean; it’s cool and refreshing against his hot skin. Louis would attempt to help in some way but he’s just so relaxed that he can’t find the willpower to move.

“Thanks,” Louis says, patting Niall’s knee. Niall’s still hard, Louis can feel it against his back when he shifts on the sofa; he could happily lie here forever, but fair is fair and all that. Besides, he’s never really been one to turn down the opportunity for a bit of mouth-on-dick action, whether it’s from the giving or receiving end of things.

He turns over and gets onto his knees between Niall’s spread thighs, kissing him hungrily; he tastes like the hot chocolate he was drinking earlier, rich and sweet. He presses his palm to the outline of Niall’s cock in his trackies, feeling it jump against his hand as he sucks slow and filthy at Niall’s lower lip like a promise.

“Want me to suck your cock?” Louis says, sliding his hands up Niall’s jumper to brush his thumbs over his nipples.

“Y’do ask some stupid fucking questions, Tommo,” Niall tells him, giving his arse a squeeze, and Louis bites at his collarbone, partly in retaliation and partly because they just look so fucking _lickable_ all the time.

Shuffling back on his knees, Louis grabs Niall by the ankles and yanks him down so he’s lying on his back, Niall letting out a shocked little laugh as Louis grins and pulls his trackies down, settling down to take him into his mouth.

Niall cards gentle fingers through Louis’ hair, following the slow bob of his head up and down and groaning quietly as Louis sucks harder. “God, Lou, the mouth on you. Fuckin’ amazing. No one gives head like you do, the absolute fucking best.”

Louis loves it when Niall’s like this, letting his mouth run away with him, a combination of seriously fucking hot but also sweet and lovely, full of praise. He accepts the compliment with a little hum of approval that has Niall tightening his grip on Louis’ hair and pushing up carefully into his mouth, Louis moving down to meet him so he can nudge at the soft wet back of his throat.

“Jesus,” Niall breathes, “not gonna last long like this, Lou, so good.”

Louis pulls back a bit to focus on the head, swirling his tongue around it as he strokes him with one hand. Niall’s hand slides over the top of it, slotting their fingers together so they can stroke him together and Niall can get just the right rhythm going. Louis had been thrown by it a bit the first time, like it was an insult to Louis’ skills, but it’s not like that at all really; Niall just likes it a specific way sometimes and finds it easier to get off if he can guide Louis into it. Besides, it’s kind of a massive turn on; like Niall’s wanking off into Louis’ mouth, or something. Louis’ too sated and sleepy to get hard again, but it’s still hot enough and dirty enough that it warms the blood in his veins, a carnal thrill.

“In my mouth, yeah?” Louis says, pulling off for a moment to speak and then mouthing at the base of Niall’s cock and the soft skin beneath, wet and filthy as Niall tightens their fingers around his cock and strokes faster.

“Yeah,” Niall says, voice gone thready and thin as Louis starts sucking at the head again in time with the movement of their hands. “Yeah, fuck, like that.”

It isn’t long before he grips Louis’ hair in warning with a low-muttered _fuck_ , and then he’s flooding Louis’ mouth as he comes in pulses across his tongue. Louis swallows it down, sucking him through it, before pulling away and wiping the back of his hand across his mouth with a grin.

“Fuckin’ hell, Lou,” Niall says dazedly, pulling his trackies back up and adjusting the cushion behind him so he can get comfy. “Think my brain’s given up after that. Nice one.” He yawns and stretches, eyes lidded and heavy. Stroking his fingers up and down Louis’ arm lazily, he tugs Louis down on top of him, warm and loose and boneless. They shift until their bodies slot together like puzzle pieces, comfortable and secure.

“Sleep,” Louis says, voice muffled into Niall’s neck.

“Bed?” Niall asks him, but makes no attempt to move.

“Shhhh,” Louis whispers, making Niall laugh quietly underneath him. He pulls at the edge of the blanket where it’s hanging over the back of the sofa, wrapping it around them to create a warm, snuggly haven; he’s so tired he doesn’t even want to open his eyes. “Sleeeep.”

“Yeah,” Niall whispers as he presses a kiss to Louis’ temple, an arm thrown over Louis’ waist where it stays until morning.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope this made you feel like a warm and snuggly lil bug. If you do not currently feel like a snuggly lil bug, lemme know and I'll send blankets and hugs <3


End file.
